Aesthetics
by ToonYoungster
Summary: Twenty-five times in eight weeks. That's how long it took Lindsay to learn that looks can be deceiving.
1. Prologue

A/N: This top-heavy blonde has earned the spot as my all time favorite contestant on the show. Why? 'Cause in my opinion, she has everything a good character needs. Motivation, flaws, development, the whole deal. This won't follow the show's events in chronological order, but they will all happen in the TDI timeline. TDA and onwards will be disregarded.

* * *

xoxox **PROLOGUE** xoxox

* * *

_"The first impression is always crucial. If you don't establish yourself early in the game, no one will ever take you seriously as a competitor."_

These were the words Paula kept repeating to her younger sister, from the moment they filled out the audition sheet to the second Lindsay left on that shabby, old tugboat. The whole family, as well as the cheerleading squad, had all been there to see their little girl off. A few of them had gotten teary-eyed, but the softness in Lindsay's eyes put their worries to rest.

Ten minutes later, those same eyes started to water. Lindsay brushed her arm against her face, careful not to smear the mascara. It still did. At first she thought it was the salty lake water that was making her cry. But after another wipe on her now sticky arms, she gurgled out a laugh and realized how stupid that sounded. _Duh! Water can't make you cry! Water is what comes out!_

Unfortunately, that meant that Lindsay must've been crying over her family. She wasn't used to being alone for extended periods of time, and now that 10 -wait- _11_ minutes had gone by, it was quite unsettling. At home, there was always someone to confide in. Daddy's travel agent, her school guidance counselor, and even Carmelita Sanchez when she was especially desperate. But here, out in the open water, with no one to talk to (except the driver, who she hadn't seen since she'd gotten on. Was the boat automatic?), she felt vulnerable.

She thought about Paula's words again, and how proud she had been that her baby sister was going to be on national TV. The past couple of weeks had been nothing but shopping for bikinis, fake tanner, and other 'camp necessities'. But as much fun Lindsay had spending (wasting, mommy said) her birthday money, she could tell her big sis was worried about her. Whenever Paula expressed her concerns, Lindsay would always answer with a comforting smile that she was a big girl and that she could take care of herself.

Oh, why couldn't she keep her mouth shut, like she always did?

After quickly checking herself in a flower-shaped pocket mirror - _No smudges, no loose strands of hair...all good!_ - Lindsay gazed over the ship's deck and sniffed the air around her. The smell of rotting fish and buzzing blackflies were making her a little sick, but she ignored it and tried to remain positive. She thought back to all the luxuries that were promised in the brochure, the most appealing of which were the seaweed mud wraps imported from Japan. The subsequent burst of giggles were impossible for Lindsay to resist. She rested a cheek in one of her dainty hands as she contemplated how gorgeous she would be after eight weeks of non-stop pampering. Her lips started to curl. Paula would have loved this!

Fifteen minutes.

The blaring sound of the ship's horn snapped Lindsay out of her fantasy. The island was now in sight. She surveyed the area, eagerly looking for the hot tub that was supposed to be sanctioned outside the hotel they were staying at. But there was no hot tub or hotel to be found. All she could make out were two pint-sized cabins and a dining hall that looked like something out of a Hallmark postcard.

_Ooh, it must be a themed resort!_

As the tugboat came to a gradual stop, the sight of four teenagers and a handsome looking man (Chip, is it?) caught her attention. The short girl in a poorly constructed ponytail waved at her, to which she waved back with a pleasant smile. It was nice to be around other people again. Twenty minutes of solitude would have probably killed her.

The camera crew suddenly shifted their focus on her, leaving the handsome man to straighten out his cashmere suit. As she was used to having cameras around her, Lindsay knew this meant she was supposed to step off the boat and introduce herself. She reached for her bubblegum pink suitcase and carefully rolled it down to the dock. The others were now in full view, and besides the scary looking pale girl (she desperately needed some conditioner), they all looked like pretty nice people. She was just about to say 'Hi' when Chip suddenly spoke up.

"Everyone, this is Lindsay!"

She felt the cameras zoom in on her, and for the first time all day, Lindsay let herself take it all in. How could this possibly get any better? A five-star resort, new friends to share it with, and a handsome guy to show her around. This was going to be, like, the best summer ever!

Twenty-five times in eight weeks. That's how long it took Lindsay to learn that looks can be deceiving.

xoxox

* * *

Coming up next...Omar and soda pop.


	2. OMAR

xoxox **OMAR** xoxox

* * *

Lindsay hated choices. Because it required her to make _decisions. _And any decision that couldn't be solved by buying all the sales was nerve-racking. There was just so much at stake. What if she cost her team the challenge? What if the universe exploded into a jillion pieces? What if the toenail polish didn't match her fingernails? Or worse...what if Heather disapproved? Oh, if only she were here right now. How else could she make such a life-changing decision?

"What about the banana parfait? Is it high in potassium, because my nutritionist says not to eat anything with preservatives."

The cute guy working the tuck shop placed his elbow on the counter and rested a hand on his cheek. His eyes were heavy and he took a long breath. He was _obviously_ checking her out.

He groaned. "Ma'am could you please hurry up and order? You're holding up the line."

Or not.

"Sorry," Lindsay sputtered, pointing a wavering finger at the menu. "I'll have, um, how about-"

"Hey there, Lindsay! Something wrong?"

The girl in crisis looked up to see a big ball of fun named Owen smiling down at her. She knew where he had come from. His repugnant body odor told her ten minutes ago that he was supposed to be next in line. _Oops._

"Nothing," she replied, feeling greatly at ease in his stinky presence. "I'm just not sure what to buy."

"I know, there's just so much to choose from!" He laughed his signature laugh, and Lindsay couldn't help but smile. She doesn't think he totally understood her, but maybe that's her problem. Maybe she wasn't looking at things the way she should be.

Owen continued. "You mind if I order first? All this standing is making me hungry." He said this more with eagerness than anything else. She instantly felt guilty.

"Sure." Lindsay stepped aside and leaned against the wall as Owen took her spot up front. She took too long. _Again. _

"What can I getcha', big guy?" The cashier straightened up with renewed interest.

Owen's eyes lit up as he spoke. "I'll have three boxes of Nanaimo bars, four trays of pizza bagels, a plate of poutine, and a _diet_ cola." He turned his attention to Lindsay and whispered. "I'm trying to cut down."

Lindsay gasped and covered her mouth, very much scandalized.

"Sorry, man. Out of cola," the cute tuck shop boy shrugged apologetically. "All we have left is Raspcherry Soda Pop."

Owen's stomach growled. "I'll take it!"

A crate of bottles were slammed down on the counter, and Lindsay noticed a line of drool dripping out of Owen's mouth. _Ew. _

"Ooh, I've never had Raspcherry Soda before." She lifted up a bottle and scrutinized the pink contents inside. "Is it anything like Grape-tastic?"

"Beats me, but who cares? It's free!" Owen proceeded to grab another bottle and chug it down in only a matter of seconds. The scented burp that followed did nothing to help.

Lindsay gagged as Owen proudly wiped his face with his stained T-Shirt. She found his behavior absolutely repulsive, yet oddly comforting in some ways. He was loud, gassy, and didn't care that his sneakers were _so_ last season. The big guy never burdened himself with important matters like forks or soap. How lucky. He was everything Lindsay never was. Everything she couldn't afford to be.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Lindsay brought the bottle to her mouth and took a modest, almost negligible sip.

_Oh. My. Gosh. _

"So, how is it?" Owen inquired.

"Not bad," Her eyes were fixated on the bottle Owen still had in his grasp. "Uh, are you gonna finish that?"

Fifteen bottles and a puking later, Lindsay regretted nothing.

xoxox

* * *

Coming up next...Doug and murder.


	3. DOUG

xoxox **DOUG **xoxox

* * *

It's times like this when Lindsay felt that she was better off not knowing things. Sure, she was always one to brush up on the latest tube top sale, and she'd try anything once ("_Never _tell that to a boy!" mommy said). But how Duncan could find pleasure in something soooo mean was beyond her.

"Caitlyn is still taking a shower. By the way, she can sing, like, _really _good!"

"Excellent." Duncan never looked at her. He was far too invested in the state of his T-shirt.

Lindsay wished she hadn't gotten roped into this. She just _had_ to walk into the boy's cabin and just _had_ to find Duncan half-naked on the floor. All she wanted was to ask him for some extra hairspray. Now that she was a witness, there was no escape.

"Perfect..." Duncan grinned and lifted up his shirt, admiring his handiwork. It looked exactly like the one he always wore, except it had several tears in it and the lower hem was ripped to shreds. Lindsay felt her fashion senses cry. "Hand me that bowl on my bed."

She would have called him a rude meanypants had he not been pointing his knife at her. With a girlish yelp, Lindsay scurried over to his bunk. She was about to grab the bowl, but recoiled when she caught a glimpse of what was inside.

"Ew! What _is _that?"

"Fake blood," She saw Duncan smirk at her, relishing the look on her face. "Now hurry up!"

Lindsay took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks. She slowly lifted the bowl, keeping it at arms' length as she trudged over to Duncan's side. He raised an eyebrow at her, his initial amusement having turned to annoyance.

"That's pathetic, man." He rolled his eyes and threw his shirt back on.

The bowl clanged on the floor, and Lindsay squealed when some of the blood splattered on her new, _TOTALLY IRREPLACEABLE _leather boots. She unleashed cries of despair and amidst the chaos, ended up tripping over her feet. Lindsay could hear someone laughing at her expense.

It's official. She didn't like Duncan. In fact, she _really _didn't like Duncan. It didn't matter that every romcom she ever watched told her that bad boys made the perfect boyfriends, or that Mandy and Heidi would think he was the hottest boy alive. She _really_ didn't like Duncan.

"Are we done yet?" Lindsay moaned, but was glad that the meanypants had the decency to help her back up.

"Not quite," Duncan whipped out a big, scary looking hook from out of nowhere, and Lindsay thought she peed her skirt (again). She eased up as Duncan dipped the hook in the bowl of blood. With an eerie calmness, he stepped outside of the cabin and stabbed the door. Lindsay flinched at the sight.

Once he was sure the hook was firm in place, Duncan returned inside and rubbed his hands together with sadistic pleasure. "Oh man, Courtney is going to freak!"

Lindsay thought he should be more concerned about his terrified partner than - _oh, her name's Courtney_ - Courtney. But at this point, she just wanted to leave and change into something less bloody and more cute.

"Can I _please_ go now?" Lindsay threw her head back and moaned. "If I don't change into some new shoes, I'll just die!"

"Sure."

Lindsay blinked, expecting to hear a 'but'. It didn't come.

"Wait, really?"

Duncan walked right past her and only stopped to answer once he found his duffle bag. "Yeah, I can take care of the rest myself. You did good, blondie."

"Uh...thanks." She tried to think of something else to say, but between Duncan's unexpected compliment and her current fashion disaster, nothing came to mind.

"You know, you're pretty useful sometimes," The half-insult brought her back, and she noticed Duncan was now rummaging around in his bag. "I can see why Heather chose you."

"Chose me for what?"

"Forget about it." He suddenly threw something at her, and Lindsay had to scramble to catch it. "Make sure you wash up first. Otherwise, people will catch on."

The blonde looked down at what was in her hands and smiled. A beautiful can of hairspray.

"Right," Lindsay shuffled her feet. Part of her was telling her to leave, but another told her to stay put. "So, um, you sure you don't need me for anything else?"

"Well, I was going to dump the fake blood all over myself, if you wanna stick around for-"

Lindsay bolted.

She didn't see Duncan again for the rest of the night. About five minutes after retreating to her cabin, Lindsay heard a horrified scream, a bout of hysterical laughter, and a slew of colorful words echoing into the night.

Yup, she was better off not knowing.

xoxox

* * *

Coming up next...Caitlyn and talent.


	4. CAITLYN

xoxox **CAITLYN **xoxox

* * *

Some people are just blessed with unyielding perfection.

Lindsay knew she wasn't perfect, nor did she know the meaning of 'unyielding' - she'd have to ask Beth later. Many boys had told her she was perfect, coincidentally while fixating on the upper regions of her body, but they were just being nice. Granted, being so gorgeous probably made her closer to perfection than most people. But to have looks, smarts, _and_ talent? Now that's just unfair.

She knew the CIT preferred to shower in private, so Lindsay did whatever she could to not get caught. Her orders were to check in and report back, and while she had successfully infiltrated the premises, her train of thought was lost in the angelic properties of Courtney's voice.

"_My prince will throw me a parade! My prince will be financially secured!"_

Lindsay bopped her head to the melody, amazed that someone could make a trashy washroom feel like an extravagant concert hall. She leaned back against the sink and sighed, enjoying the sounds of a twisting valve and a crinkling towel.

_Oh crap_. The blonde surveyed the area, desperately trying to find an escape route. It was not until she noticed the rather obvious front door that one of the stalls creaked open.

"Oh, hi Lindsay."

"CAITLYN! HEY!" Lindsay responded with exaggerated cheeriness. "So, uh, what brings you here?"

Courtney raised an eyebrow. "A shower?"

"Really? I love showers!"

"Yeah...me too." she replied flatly.

For the next few seconds, they just stood there in silence, waiting for the other to continue the conversation. Eventually, Courtney got bored and she started drying her hair. The way this girl could make the simple act of towel drying look like a challenge was unbelievable.

Lindsay coughed, hoping to cut the tension between them. "So, um, your singing..."

"What _about _my singing?" Courtney suddenly had her hands on her hips and Lindsay realized she had touched a nerve.

"N-nothing!" The blonde put her hands up defensively. "It was totally amazing!"

The tan girl remained silent, which Lindsay found to be a lot scarier than her usual chattering. She was just about to make a break for it when she saw the odd shape Courtney's lips were forming. A smile?

"Thank you. Having a great singing voice takes a lot more work than most people would give credit for."

If Courtney was trying not to sound smug, it wasn't working.

"Wow, really?" Lindsay crossed her arms, trying to imitate the girl's posture.

"Absolutely! Everyone always thinks that singing is a natural talent, but it's not! It takes weeks of practice just to perfect the right pitch! And do you know how many idiots I've seen in the school choir sing from their _throats_? I mean, if they just sang from their diaphragms, they'd be so much bet-"

The CIT's rant came to an abrupt stop. She took a momentary pause to clear her throat before speaking up again. "I shouldn't be talking to you."

"Why not?" Lindsay blinked twice as Courtney began to check her reflection in the mirror.

"For my own security," She waved the question away as though it were obvious. "If my teammates found out I was fraternizing with the enemy, they may feel obligated to vote me off. Nothing personal."

"Really?" The blonde tried to focus on Courtney's logic and not on the girl's terribly deep blackheads. "Why would they do that?"

"Who knows? The rest of my team aren't exactly brainiacs when it comes to rational decisions." Courtney kicked on a pair of slippers and fixed the towel covering her chest. "Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to my cabin."

Lindsay panicked. Doug was very clear about _not _letting Princess, a.k.a Courtney, back into the cabin before he was done. In sheer desperation, she threw herself into Courtney's path, arms spread out dramatically.

"Wait! You can't!"

Courtney frowned. "Why not?"

"Because...because..." she stammered, racking her brain for an idea. "Because you still have to take a shower!"

"I just did!"

"Y-you forgot your loofah!"

"I didn't bring a loofah! Now, move!"

"Look! Green jelly!"

"What? _Where!?_"

With the few seconds she had managed to save, Lindsay did the only rational thing that she could possibly do in this situation - she grabbed a rusty mop bucket and splashed the CIT accordingly.

Courtney wailed as she found herself drenched in a brown, slightly runny liquid. She shivered from the unexpected chill, though that was _nothing _compared to the ice-cold scowl on her face.

"L-Lindsay! Are y-you *sputter* insane!? W-why would y-you even *cough* think to do that!? *cough* You l-little piece of - Oh crap, it went into my mouth!"

By the time Courtney had stormed back into the stall, Lindsay was already half-way back to the Killer Bass's cabin. Apparently, her lack of presence meant nothing, as she could distinctly hear the words "lawyer" and "CIT", followed by a slew of colorful words echo into the night.

Lindsay decided that perfection was overrated.

xoxox

* * *

Coming up next...Emma and spandex pants.


End file.
